Duplicity
by Never Stray
Summary: A ruthless warlord with an appetite for exotic women. A dangerous contract that threatens the peace between nations. Throw in an overprotective Uchiha captain, hell-bent on sabotaging her every move, and Sakura's first seduction mission reads like a recipe for disaster. Post-canon. [Sasusaku]
1. Mission Impossible

A/N: This story is rated a strong T.

* * *

Chapter One: Mission Impossible

With trepidation, Sakura kissed him again.

As she wound her fingers through the soft, dark hair at the nape of his neck, she ran through the list one more time. Knees spread? Check. Back arched? Check. Lips soft—

"You're stiff enough to be a corpse," Sai said, watching from across the room.

Sakura grimaced. This mission would be the death of her.

Naruto had sold it her soft. A simple espionage mission with two ANBU Black-ops on a Stone-land Warlord who dealt partially in forbidden scrolls. The council wanted to know if he warranted a listing in the Bingo Book. Sakura's team was to infiltrate, gather intel, and leave without arousing suspicion. However, Higa Masao was a dangerous man with extensive influence over this region. Infiltration would have been challenging, except for the Warlord's one handicap- his appetite for exotic women.

"I'm trying," she said. "Would you like a go?"

"I'd put an ugly virgin like yourself to shame," he retorted. "Every beautiful woman in this country wants to be in his harem. Some train in seduction from the time they are girls. Why were _you _assigned?"

Because, like an idiot, she'd signed mission scroll before Naruto introduced the rest of the team. Big mistake. The truth hit her over the head when the doors to that office opened, revealing two familiar men. The truth hit her and laughed at her lying on the cold ground. The truth was, she was on an exceedingly difficult mission with exceedingly difficult shinobi.

The first was Sai, who she had the displeasure of working with on a god-forsaken mission to Otogakure back with her genin team. This one, she should've seen a mile away. He meant well, and his ink jutsu made him a the village staple for spy missions. However, his long tenure in ROOT had deprived him of a single drop of social tact. He seemed to take special pleasure in pointing out her incompetence and unattractiveness at every turn.

Two fingers gripped her chin and forced her gaze back into the dark eyes of the man under her. Sakura fought a flush.

Two ANBU Black Ops. The first was Sai.

And the other was Uchiha Sasuke.

Yup, _that_ Sasuke, working off the last of his probation. Sure, they'd been getting a long well these past few years since his return. Didn't change the fact that he was still the one who she had that big, fat, embarrassing crush on for five years which she made known to everyone with ears in the village and declared her undying love for when she was twelve and—

"When you kiss him, relax your mouth," Sasuke drawled. Straddled as she on his lap, she could feel the vibrations of his chest through her stomach, the hard edges and planes of his muscles impossibly evident through the fabric of his shirt. Never in a million years could she have fathomed this situation. Of course, his pulse was slow and steady, while Sakura's pounded away at somewhere between "just finished a marathon" and "near death experience."

Calm, Haruno. Don't be nervous. Absolute professionalism. You are not female.

Sakura slid deeper into his lap, closing the small space between their bodies. Heat engulfed her, Sasuke's body enveloping her own completely. Such a strange thing adulthood was. Hadn't they been the same size as genin? She spread her thighs around his waist and kissed him again, self-conscious but forcing the tension from her jaw.

"Like that?" she asked. Gods, when did her voice become so breathy? Was she sweating?

"Moan."

She tried to sound sexy and enticing, as naturally as she could. It came out—

"Like a dying animal," Sai observed.

Even she was cringing. But he was also right in that she was a virgin. She bit her lips. She'd never considered herself sexy in her life. Sexy implied a woman who was confident and experienced, basically, worlds away from where she was at. Even with Sasuke's tutelage... could she really pull this mission off?

Sasuke pressed a languid kiss to the nape of her neck. Unbidden, her head tilted back and her eyes slid shut. He'd definitely done this before. His hand ran down her side, over her waist to knead at the soft flesh of her hips, his breath fanning at her throat. Something hot laved at her pulse point, and she whimpered. Startling desire shot through her. How did an ANBU assassin, trained from childhood to kill, get so good at making her feel like a woman? He licked the skin of her ear and bit her lobe, and she moaned.

Sasuke pulled away. "Better," he said, as if he were addressing Academy children throwing their first shuriken. Sakura flushed hard, near unable to meet his gaze. The hard part wasn't the acting. In fact, faking attraction, she found, came hilariously easy when she found her partner attractive. The hard part was coming to terms with the fact that he, clearly, did not share the sentiment.

His gaze fell to her lips. "Again," he commanded.

This was one of the most humiliating and nerve-wracking trials of her life. "Misleading" was too gentle a word to describe the way Naruto had sold this mission to her. What was the sentence for assassinating the Hokage these days?

Sasuke's eyes, which she'd swooned over as a girl, were an impossible black, so dark that iris melded into pupil. Undilated, appraising, and unemotional. When was the last time she'd seen them bleed red? Sakura closed hers and pressed her lips to his again. Ah, they were soft. Carelessly, his tongue slipped into her mouth to demand sensual things of her own. An appraising palm smoothed a path down her back, following the arch of her spine and the curve of her ass. This was just practice, Sakura thought. Not. Real. The hand dipped between her thighs and stroked an unmentionable place.

Sakura jumped a foot in the air and fell off of the couch. Heart pounding, she stared at him. Sasuke remained sprawled in the armchair, relaxed and taking up too much space. Expression as nonplussed as if he had been sharpening kunai on a Saturday afternoon.

"We are going to fail this mission," Sai concluded.

* * *

Head bowed, the guard announced, "Higa-sama, the girl has arrived."

Sakura felt the weight of his gaze, as palpable as a heavy palm, but kept her gaze demurely pointed at the ground. Rose marble veined with gold, with each tile probably worth a month of her rent. No expense was spared for the warlord, and then some. It was said every successful economic venture in the developed world, public and underground, were strung to his ring-laden fist, and his lavish home tucked in the Land of Stone was filled with wealth and artifacts.

"What is your name?"

"I am Nanami, sir," she said, keeping her tone soft.

"A pleasure. Come closer, Nanami," he requested, and Sakura stepped forward. Higa had an angular face with full lips and a square, clean-shaven jaw. Dark blond hair curled around his ears, and his grey eyes watched her with inquiry. He was surprisingly attractive and and young, looking every bit like a tall prince in his throne room. The Higa Masao of her machinations, a fat, bald middle-aged man with a persistent case of psoriasis, quickly disintegrated.

"This color is rare, exotic." he said, pulling her between his thighs and winding a finger through her long pink hair. His open palm grasped her side, with his thumb resting decidedly on her right breast. Sakura smiled sweetly and did not break his hand.

"I think I'll take you. Will you join me?" he said, whispering the words against her neck. His breath was hot against her skin, his actions terrifyingly forward. But Sakura needed to act the part of the willing female, enticed by his allure and wealth.

"Yes, sir. I am honored," Sakura said, and he pressed a kiss to her throat, inches from the spot that Sasuke had laved just hours before. Against her will, she gasped and pulled back.

He stared at her, his eyes grey and startled.

"Sorry," she stammered and scrambled back, pulse racing. She shouldn't show any sign of hesitation, she knew. But he was so forward, and that was unexpected. Praying fervently that she had not aroused suspicion, she met his eyes again. He contemplated her and then said quietly, "See you tonight, Nanami."

Sakura nodded, and followed the attendant out of the room, feeling his heavy gaze on her the entire time. It wasn't until the attendant walked her to her room that she felt she could breathe properly again.

"I will return for you after dinner. Do not leave these premises." the guard warned and left.

Sakura locked the door after him.


	2. For the First Time

Chapter Two: For the First Time

"Why did you hesitate?"

His voice rang through the room, as steady and intimidating as the man it belonged to. Sasuke materialized into her room in the warlord's complex. Sakura's heart skipped a beat.

"I didn't expect him to be so forward," she said. "It won't happen again."

It had been a costly move for which she was still kicking herself. Higa's file included multiple connections with Iwagakure, enough that a past shinobi career wasn't out of the question. And shinobi were bred vigilant. A flinch of reluctance would not go unnoticed.

"Good. You know the cost of revealing our presence," he said, eyes steely as he approached.

She nodded. Naruto was a pal, but in the post-war world, public image meant everything. The other nations would be _very_ curious as to why Konoha, infalliable tower of ethical business and conduct, was investigating its number one weapons supplier for black market activity.

"I'm sorry for troubling you and Sai," she said. If she were Ino, they would've spent last night sleeping instead. "That will teach me to take Naruto at his word for a mission."

"You didn't know it was seduction?"

"Not explicitly. I never take these for a reason." She bit her lip. "What Sai said was true. I don't have the uh, carnal experience."

Sasuke stared at her. Then, to her horror, amusement began to color his eyes. He lowered himself eye level with her. Her pulse thundered at her throat, to her great consternation.

This was ridiculous. She was a grown woman, and yet one smolder from her childhood crush was all it took to make her feel as nervous as a 14-year-old, kissing a boy for the first time.

This _thing_ with him. When had it started?

After the war, Sasuke was tried and punished. He remained, however, one of the Leaf's most valuable assets, so reinstatement was inevitable. His parole demanded him to accept any mission he was given, and the council had a great slew of foreign assassinations to assign to a deadly and disposable shinobi. At the time, she was working on a medical research project in the hospital. They didn't cross paths for months.

Not until he was checked in one night on her shift, with a poisoned laceration to his neck. She had trembled. Emotionally unprepared for the reunion, she remembered flitting her fingers across his jaw, trying to draw the poison out without actually touching him. He noticed, even in his drug-induced haze. Sakura wondered if Sasuke still remembered.

From then on, she found herself bumping into him more often, and the awkwardness began to, thankfully, dissipate. He started to go directly to her apartment for his Sharingan upkeep, citing it less of a hassle then the hospital. She'd occasionally drop off extra groceries at his house when the vendors were having a sale, or some food when she'd cooked too much. A year or two ago, he started dropping off souvenirs, behavior that bewildered her.

"Reminded me of you," he had said. It was a scroll on herb theory from Earth country. He left before she could reply.

From then on, his little gifts became a commonplace phenomenon after his missions. A carved tiger-bone comb from Grass country. A vial of rare neurotoxic poison from Sand. And once, a tiny flying gerbil from an exotic island that was all cuddly kisses in Sasuke's palms but turned rabidly feral as soon as he left her apartment.

They spoke a little too, about missions, Naruto, her job and her coworkers. Sakura was happy to rekindle an old friendship, and Sasuke didn't seem to mind the company. But he never reached out emotionally. They were painfully platonic, and it hurt, because it seemed to be treatment that he reserved especially for her. She'd seen him out with Naruto, Kakashi, other jonin from their Academy class. He made new acquaintances in HQ, and she'd even bumped into a few women leaving his apartment.

He wasn't shameless about it, but Sakura did not doubt that he had enough carnal experience to put her to shame.

No surprise there. Sasuke was one of the strongest shinobi of their era. Smart, agile, lethal. With carelessly tousled dark hair, high cheekbones, and a perfectly sculpted physique; he made arrogance look sexy. It was no wonder that he had his pick of girls, wherever they went.

And she was just Plain Sakura. Short-statured, short-tempered, and growing a little too full in the ass from all those hours spent bent over cell cultures in the basement. And of course, nothing brought the boys to the yard quite like her monstrous ability to demolish mountains and armies of men with a punch.

"Why do you agree with Sai?" Sasuke asked suddenly, breaking her from her thoughts.

"What?"

"You said what he said was true. Which part?"

Sakura flushed. Well, here it was. She knew the moment was inevitable. That she'd have to reveal her absolute lack of experience to the _last person _who she'd want to know. "All of it."

Every year, that inevitable question came along at family reunions during the Harvest Festival:

"Anyone special in your life?" her aunt would ask with a twinkle in her eye.

Every year, she flushed and denied, dodging her relatives' well-meaning chorus of "but you're such a beautiful girl!" and "are you sure you're putting yourself out there?"

She just couldn't seem to get it together with guys. All her life, she'd been surrounded by men in the military, where to compete, she had to quash her femininity. Forget nail polish and makeup. Forget lacy bras and tight dresses. After having to do her business in the woods more times than she could count or scrubbing down next to her male teammates in a shallow creek with nothing but foliage for coverage, maintaining any semblance of sexual mystique with the opposite gender was a lesson in futility. It wasn't like she was Ino; tall, blonde, and willowy with a dainty technique of mind-transfer that would require her to swoon into her teammate's arms.

A summer fling with Inuzuka Kiba at 16 was beginning and end of Sakura's relationship experience. It had been the post-war boom, people were coupling up left and right, and Kiba was fun to be around. They mutually called it quits after missions became too hectic, though, and she fell into a dry spell of sorts. On the rare occasion that guys did ask her out, she was a hot mess, and usually found an excuse to cut the date short.

Yup, Sakura was probably the only virgin kunoichi left on Konoha's roster. Twenty years old. Wasn't that embarrassing? Not many people knew. She didn't even think Naruto knew which was probably how she ended up with this mission in the first place.

Sakura bit her lip, not quite meeting Sasuke's gaze. "Higa's got all these gorgeous girls lined up to have him, I'm supposed to seduce him? I don't have the experience or the looks."

With a dull clunk, Sasuke dropped his sword to the floor, and then he was gripping the arms of her chair, caging her in. "You do," he said, gaze lowering on her lips in a move that sent unexpected heat shooting down her stomach and coiling in her lower belly.

Sakura snorted. "You don't have to lie to me just to boost my ego."

"I'm not lying."

The image of his cool look of disinterest from after their kiss resurfaced in her mind. He looked about as interested in her as the wallpaper. "Mhm."

Sasuke drew his brow. Without a word, he closed the distance between them, and her heart thudded when she knew what was coming, felt it in the wrap of his hands on her arms, in the pine-and-rain smell of his skin, and the heat from his big body.

And then his mouth were slanted over hers in a searing kiss, his tongue sliding hot and demanding over hers. Languidly, she melted into him. It was so insanely effortless with him. He dropped one hand in a caress to her breast, his thumb brushing the underside deliberately. Hot, foreign arousal shot through her body, as heat pooled in her lower belly. His strength surrounded her, enveloped her, and she felt so lost.

Closer. Her hands, which she did not remember moving, curled to fists in his hair. She tugged him closer, and he growled. The vibration reverberated in her chest and soared downward to settle between her legs. He swallowed her whimpers. Sakura had never felt like this with before, this heat, this desperation. She wanted more of him, wanted to climb right inside of him. Helplessly, she writhed, brushing something hard.

Sasuke tore away. He stared at her, and the the hunger in his gaze stole her breath away. It was heated, voracious, endless. No one had ever looked at her like that before. And that...

As if reading her mind, Sasuke ground his arousal into her hips. "Still think I'm lying?" he asked, his voice coarser than sandpaper.

She swallowed, eyes wide.

He contemplated her lips from under lowered lashes, and for one hopeful moment she thought he would kiss her again. But then, he picked up his sword from the ground and turned for the window.

"Sai has completed his coverage of Higa's complex. I'll be close for back-up tonight as well."

And just like that, he disappeared.

For a minute, she didn't move. What was that?

Was that a doppelganger, or something? What happened to her cold and controlled taichou from this morning? The one who put a hand up her skirt and looked like he'd rather be washing dishes.

Because that kiss just now, quite simply, phenomenal. Hands down best one of her life. The blistering heat of his mouth, the feeling of his body over hers... And there was no denying he felt equally desirous of her, for some unfathomable reason. Sakura shook as a chill ran down her spine. The look in his eyes was full of lust. He looked like he wanted to tear her clothes off and swallow her whole.

Tonight, something changed between the two of them. Irrevocably and colossally. And she couldn't decide if the change frightened her or excited her.


	3. Tempted

Chapter Three: Tempted

Sakura fingers flattened the embroidered neckline of her kimono, feeling for the recorder. An unfamiliar countenance watched from the mirror— a girl with long khol lashes and bee-stung lips, which that had been glued to those of a doppelganger of her dangerously attractive captain but two hours ago. Because that couldn't have been her back there, moaning in utter disregard of Konoha's personal conduct regulations for active shinobi. And it most certainly couldn't have been _him._

Cheeks burning, Sakura checked the time. Eleven fifty-nine. As if on cue, the presence of the guard rounded the corner into her hall. She sealed her chakra and counted his steps. The door handle turned.

"Number 43. Tachibana Nanami," he said by way of greeting, glancing briefly from his clipboard.

"Yes."

Sakura followed him out of the room_._ Tonight, she was to acquainted herself with the warlord. It was a task that required delicate handling, for no reason other than she needed to slip away after a few weeks without arousing suspicion. It would not do for Higa to become too attached to her. Luckily, it was common knowledge was that his standard affairs went no longer than two weeks, never longer than a month. It was obvious which of the two situations was more reason to sweat. Stone boasted the tallest and most beautiful women in the world. Sakura had little doubt that the cream of the crop would all be poured into tight, short dresses tonight, within the satin-lined walls of Higa's personal chambers.

The guard led her through a head-spinning route through the complex. The halls looked the same. She'd have to ask Sai for a floorplan later. Finally, when Sakura was just about certain that they'd passed the same mountain painting twice, he stopped before a simple door. It was distinguishable only by sheer length length of uninterrupted wall that stretched on either side of it. A faint shimmer of genjutsu flickering around the hinge.

The guard knocked, and the door cracked open, enough for a suspicious eye and an Iwa insignia to peek through. The eye scanned her person, and then he hustled her into the room.

Sakura stared. And stared and stared.

The room was enormous. It was opulent. She'd never seen anything like it.

Gold-leaf cornices, white satin walls, luxurious burgundy carpeting, antiques and paintings on the wall. One one wall, a floor to ceiling window, obscured by sheer drapes. A trio of crystal chandeliers, dimly lit. Everything screamed money. Lots and lots of money.

There were people there, fifty or so, largely female, peppered with a handful of men in evening wear. Most likely the Warlord's inner circle. They stood eye-level with the statuesque women, draped in glamorous gowns, all daringly cut to reveal dazzling bronzed skin. Jewels choked the ladies' wrists, necks, and hair, framing their patrician faces. It seemed that it was decided beforehand that smokey eyes and red lips would be the look of the night. In her modest, traditional dress and barely-there makeup, Sakura couldn't have felt more out of place. And her target was nowhere to be found.

Turning, Sakura walked to the drink table, where dozens of bottles of sake were displayed and open.

"Good evening," Sakura greeted the tall girl next to her. Her dark hair was cut in a stylish bob. A thick fringe shadowed her bedroom eyes. She was stunning in a sparkling number dripping in rubies.

"Hello," the girl replied, after perusing Sakura's appearance from head to toe. "This sake is marvelous. Where did your employer acquire it?" She passed two empty bottles to Sakura.

"In the far east, in Wind country. The distiller produces only ten barrels a year."

"Of course, of course. Masao's taste is exquisite, as always." The girl poured herself another cup, a distinct flush beginning to color her cheeks. Perfect.

"Actually, I've got to deliver a message to him about the next shipment, but I can't seem to locate him."

"Oh, his chamber is right back there." She gestured carelessly to an alcove tucked into the wall. "I would _knock."_

"Thank you. Please enjoy your drink."

Sakura hurried in the direction and found a door. Higa's chamber. Soundproof and chakra-dampening, but she could sense several presences within. Where were Sasuke and Sai? She would have to have faith and wing this on her own.

She knocked. No response. Quietly, she turned the knob and slipped inside.

It turned out her stealth was for naught. The first thing that struck her was the smell of sake. Pungent and bitter, it filled the back of her nostrils and nearly gagged her with its intensity. Open ceramic bottles lined the wall, and half-filled cups were scattered all over the floor, not unlike their female owners.

Three or four women, thin and in varying stages of undress, lounged about the floor, some drinking and others already passed out.

Farthest back against the wall, Higa sprawled in a settee, eyes closed and his head tilted over the back. His perfectly styled hair from this afternoon was now mussed. His right hand circled the neck of a sake bottle, while his left was buried into the neckline of a woman at his side, writhing like she was having the greatest orgasm of her life. His robe was open, and Sakura's eyes trailed down his built chest, seamlessly to the back of a second girl's head kneeling between his thighs. His trousers were at his ankles.

Sakura turned away before she could see more than she wanted to.

"Who are you?" he asked thickly. His voice was noticeably slurred, his gestures undirected.

She steadied her breath and even attempted a smile. "Nanami, sir. You offered me this honor earlier today." Honor. She wanted to apologize to the very word for using it in this context.

"I don't remember. You're too far, come here."

And get closer to the girl going to town on his schlong? Sakura resisted the urge to retch and stepped forward two inches. Higa scowled impatiently, pushing the blonde aside. Then suddenly, he squeezed his eyes shut and dropped his head between his knees.

"Fuck..." He blanched, deathly pale. Sweat darkened his robe down the front. Then he collapsed.

Both girls beside him clamored back, looking hesitantly at each other. "Higa-sama, are you alright?" the one who had been kneeling shook him, but his head only lolled.

There were countless empty sake bottles scattered under the settee. A thick, rolled stick of pungent herbs, _kokova _by the smell of it, smoldered in the ashtray. It didn't take an apprenticeship with Tsunade-sama to put two and two together. His condition was obvious... and lethal. If she turned tail and left right then, Higa Masao would be dead in the hour. The mission would end, and Sakura would be tucked into her own bed by tomorrow night, clean and warm.

But Higa's financial empire would fall to his competitors, all hounding for a piece of his wealth, and his plutocracy in this part of the country would crumble. What did that mean for Konoha and their weapon supply lines? Was it worth the risk? Did she save him, or let him die? Was she even qualified to make this decision?

Wait. Sakura took a deep breath and scowled at her panic. Of course she was. No one was more qualified to make this decision than she was. She was a medic, after all.

"Please, clear the room," Sakura told one girl, gesturing at the bodies on the floor. The girl woke the others, and they scrambled out the door, grabbing discarded heels and shawls and rings as they went.

To the other one, Sakura instructed, "Ask the guards for activated charcoal, warm water, and a towel."

The girl nodded. "You must be his medic. Thank goodness." It appeared Sakura looked like everything and anything but a mistress for Higa.

Sakura waited for her to leave, before arranging Higa's body on the floor and kneeling by his chest. His vitals were dangerously depressed, his pulse hardly palpable. She set to work pumping his heart without chakra, something she hadn't had to do since she was thirteen. Sometime later, a guard came to drop off the supplies. He left, ashen-faced, as soon as he saw his employer's form on the floor. Sakura spooned the black powder down Higa's throat and kept at work. After twenty minutes, his heart restored its tempo.

Sitting back and wiping the sweat off her brow, Sakura watched his eyes shift beneath closed lids. They slid open, and unfocused grey eyes flitted about the room and then focused on her face.

"Is this heaven?" Higa asked blearily, and Sakura couldn't help but smile.

"If it is, it's a pretty sorry excuse for paradise," she said, pressing a warm towel about his face, and moving her foot from what was no doubt a pool of someone's vomit. He closed his eyes and to her surprise, he had the strength raise his hand to his chest, covering her hand with his.

"Who are you?" he whispered.

"Nanami," she said. "Sleep now." She passed a palm over his eyes. He wouldn't have the strength to open them again.

In the quietest of voices, he murmured, "You're beautiful." Then, his breathing evened, and then he was asleep.

Sakura exhaled slowly, then turned when a familiar presence entered the room. Yet, it took her a second before she fully processed who the tall figure in front of her was.

"Sasuke-kun," she breathed. The first night on location, they had decided against genjutsu disguises. It was a gamble, to be sure. But the Land of Stone, bracketed by impenetrable mountain ranges and guerrilla turf-wars, had not seen foreign troops on its soils in three hundred years. It turned a deaf ear and a blind eye to Eastern wars. _Henge, _on the other hand, was a telltale sign of someone with something to hide.

Instead, Sasuke had cut his hair and left his stubble unshaven. The result was alarmingly effective. He looked like a completely different person, older and achingly masculine. His gaze flitted around the room, registering the medical supplies around Sakura, Higa's disheveled appearance, and settling, finally, on his chest, where their two hands were joined.

"Did you use chakra?" he asked.

"Of course not."

"Good."

Sakura let out a breath she hadn't been aware she was holding. Sasuke walked around closer to her and dropped to crouch beside her. Immediately, her body reacted to his proximity, his scent and his heat overwhelming her. She was entranced, every cell in her body helplessly cognizant of him. Sasuke's blankly looked at Higa's face, and fell, once again, at the man's hand clasped over hers. Gently, Sakura extracted her palm from under his.

"Did anything happen before he passed out?" he asked.

"Not really. I came in and he was- he was-" Sakura flushed, "being serviced by some girls. Then he dropped, so I cleared out the room. One of the girls thought I was his medic. He may ask about my medical training later on, but none of what I did was exceptionally advanced." She paused. "Do you think that's an angle I could work? Trying for his physician?"

He shook his head. "No. That's a long term commitment." He took in the scattering of sake bottles around the room. "He will be looser-tongued with sake and women, anyway."

It'd been a shot in the dark. But would it kill Sasuke to express a little bit of discontent that she had to seduce another man?

He stood. "Most of Higa's women are procured from the country through private handlers. I will be yours. Address me as Ito Kyouya. We've journeyed from a town in western Stone and have traveled together for two months. I had two other charges, but they were distributed to appropriate escort houses during the journey. You are my final charge, Nanami."

Sakura rose with him. "My family compensated you to ensure my safe journey here?"

"Here, and back at the end of your stay," he said. "With any gifts the Warlord may be inclined to bestow."

Something came over her, and Sakura lowered her lids. "And have we been intimate?"

Sasuke approached slowly, until he stood toe to toe with her. Her breasts brushing against his chest, his figure dwarfing her in size. Every hard line of his shoulders and back, displayed in his fitted dark shirt, spoke of strength. A massive pool of chakra rolled under his skin, overwhelming and tumultuous, like a storm barely controlled. When had the boy grown into a man?

"The conditions of my employment forbade it. But... " he said. His gaze flitted over her features and dropped to her lips, entranced. "... I was tempted."

Desire heated her blood like a wildfire, and the tiny, usually disregarded slice of feminine sexuality in her mind screamed at her to close the distance between them, to melt into his muscled form and sink into his mouth in abandonment. Instead, she licked her lips, and watched his eyes darken. His throat tightened in a hard swallow and his hand—

The door slammed open. A brunet man in his late thirties barged in, dark eyes wild with alarm, sweat beading on his high brow. Sakura recognized from the crowd outside. "Ito-san," he inclined his head to Sasuke. To her, he asked, "How is he?"

"He's stable for now. Take him to a bed and put him on his side. Give him plenty of water, and he'll probably need some painkillers when he wakes up."

"Thank you." The man lifted Higa's form with ease, as Sasuke held the door.

"Nanami, come with me. He'll want to see you when he wakes up."

Sakura nodded. Sasuke exited behind her, touched her back, and then left in the opposite direction.


	4. Pleasure Doing Business

Chapter Four: Pleasure Doing Business

"I suppose I owe you my life."

Higa contemplated her quietly from his bed, a behemoth of ebony bedposts, satin sheets, and embroidered throw pillows. The goose down comforter was thick enough to swallow her whole.

"It was my honor, Higa-sama." The rest of the suite was decorated to match, lit by the morning sun filtering through the sheer curtains. A mounted katana, two and a half feet of tempered blue steel with a dragon-hilt to match, stood out from the padded comfort of its surroundings. An heirloom, perhpas? The warlord did not earn his title through combat prowess. Rather, Higa could afford to hire out every Jonin in Stone for the duration of his life and still have enough _ryo_ leftover that his grandchildren would never have to wipe their own asses.

"You've received instruction." It wasn't a question.

Sakura replied, "My _obaa-san _owned an herb store. We went around to residences, treating the sick, and she was grooming me to take over."

"Treating overdoses?"

"We were a leisure town near a hidden village. Men, shinobi mostly, passed through frequently."

"Ahh, shinobi can be such _crude _individuals." No arguments there. Higa regarded her from under long, blond lashes as he leaned back, against the wall. His open robe parted wide over his chest and revealed a sliver of black tattoo, curled over his left pectoral muscle. Military or aesthetic? His skin was pale and otherwise scarless, yet his musculature did not fit one of a simple, financial mogul. And Sakura knew all too well, scars could be healed. "Tell me, Nanami, did you frequently service these men?"

His gaze was as grey and blank as a rainy spring afternoon. Testing her.

Tension ran up her jaw. "I am not without standards, Higa-sama." Two could play.

She rose to her feet and approached, maintaining eye contact. His lips parted, imperceptibly, when she reached his side. "But I've never heard any complaints." The words came out smoky and dark, full of promise. Perfectly seductive after all those minutes practicing in the mirror.

The Warlord took the bait, abdomen clenching as he straightened, then slid out of bed. In one step, he swallowed the distance between them. "Is that an invitation?" he asked. Although he was barefoot, he loomed easily over her, such that she had to crane her neck. He smelled like oak and spice, masculine and expensive. Cologne that could get a shinobi killed.

"Would you like it to be?" she whispered, acutely aware that he was backing her into the wall. Number three in on list of dangerous-positions-most-shinobi-should-avoid.

"Yes," he said. "Would you?"

She caught his heavy-lidded gaze. "Yes." He stepped forward, and the wall met her solidly between the shoulder blades.

"Then fuck me."

Sakura blinked. "What?"

Nonchalantly, Higa began to work at the knot holding his robe together. "I want to thrust my cock between your thighs, and you just agreed. What's the confusion?" Then, smoothly, he shrugged the robe off his shoulders and stood before her, naked as the day he was born. Pale skin stretched over the lean muscles of his shoulders, too thick to belong to a businessman.

Sakura was startled for all of half a second. Part of her job in the hospital included disrobing an assortment of unfamiliar men from paper gowns. All Higa accomplished was revealing his test. He doubted her desire for him and suspected her intentions. He was trying to shock her and gauge her reaction. Unfortunately for him, Sakura excelled at tests. She thought fast. In this situation, a virgin would blush and push him off. A female spy would accept his offer and sleep with him. An actual mistress, however, would assert her sexuality while responding to the demeaning way in which he propositioned her.

Sakura made a show of glancing down at his growing arousal, refusing to allow her brain to process the image. Then she raised an eyebrow. "That's it?"

Higa froze.

Silence rang, and Sakura didn't dare to breathe. Finally, he bent to retrieve his robe. A wry smile played upon his features. "I seem to be making a habit out of embarrassing myself before you."

Relief fought to overtake her features, but she stood with her hip cocked. "As in…"

"It's never failed before."

Sakura stared openly. "You're telling me that flashing your dangly bits and telling girls to sleep with you works _every time_?"

"Not precisely, but I've never been turned down before."

"... How?"

With an uncharacteristically heavy sigh, Higa returned to the bed.

"Let me put it this way. How much money do you make in a year?"

As she screwed up her face, trying to estimate a reasonable salary, he cut her off. "It doesn't matter. The women I bed receive that, times ten, times a hundred, with jewels, clothes, resources, and vacations. They need to do nothing but keep me happy. Think, kitten. You'd never have to fill another herb jar in your life."

Sakura tried to picture herself living in such a way. No more missions. No more research. No more patients. For the life of her, she couldn't help but feel it would be an exceedingly boring existence.

Higa watched her face and continued. "I am under no illusions. It is a business exchange. Wealth, power, sex… I offer it all in excess, and women provide me intimacy in exchange. But you refused. So what are you after?"

Oh, nothing… except details of his financial escapades, close contacts, assets, investments, and contracts. A ten year plan would be appreciated, too. A certain strain in his voice belied his apathetic words. Sakura couldn't help but wonder if, in fact, Higa Masao was lonely.

"I've heard stories of you all my life. Your success inspired many. Is it so difficult to fathom that a girl would want to know the type of man who's climbed to the apex of the industry at so young an age?"

Surprise lit his eyes, the candor of his expression catching her off-guard. For a man who whose weekly dealings ended with no less than six zeros, Higa was incredibly easy to read. The moment was short-lived. She saw the exact moment he realized, and stoicism overtook his face again. The switch was one gesture she'd seen way too often on the face of a certain teammate, when she was desperate for a glimpse into his true feelings.

"There's always an ulterior motive. Everyone acts in his or her own self-interest. Presuming otherwise would make you a fool, and fools are eliminated. "

"Maybe some people consider the wellbeing of their friends of interest," she snapped. "Maybe you just need to let people in more so they can help you. Maybe if you dropped the strong and silent act-" She cut herself when she realized what she was doing. "My lord," she finished quietly.

Well, if she'd dodged a bullet before, she was jumping the cannon now. There went this month's rent. Sasuke was going to kill her.

But when she looked, Higa wore a strange smile. Anticipatory. A bated breath. "Two weeks. I won't ask you to do anything you don't want to. In exchange, give me your uncontested company, and I will reimburse your handler's fee with surplus at the end."

Sakura stared. It was a magnanimous offer, one that she'd have to dissect later for tells that her cover had been blown. "Higa-sama-"

"Let's drop the pretext. Call me Masao."

"Masao." He seemed pleased. "Thanks."

"Of course. I do owe you my life, Nanami."

A knock sounded at the door.

"Come in," Higa said.

The same brunet who'd led her to this room entered. He was well groomed, wearing a black uniform that she'd seen several other household employees wear. His brow was high from a receding hairline, and his eyes were small and dark. Indiscernible age. Not striking in any way. The type of man shinobi were taught to henge into for disguises. As he'd informed her this morning, he was the head butler, Tanaka Jun.

He bowed deeply. "The facilities are prepared, Higa-sama. Are you sure this is wise, so soon after yesterday?"

Higa smiled. "Tell the men to prepare the sabers." What. The door closed behind Jun. He turned to Sakura, expression unreadable again. "Have you ever touched a sword, Nanami?"

* * *

As it turned out, Higa wasn't joking about the swords.

Sakura found herself standing sideline in a practice gym of sorts, with lines marking the boundaries of the sparring area. Around one wall, an assortment of blades was displayed- katanas, broadswords, tanto blades, and more. It was a collection to rival the Academy's, but unlike the overused, chipped equipment they gave to the students, Higa's were leather-handled and sharpened to a mirror's edge.

Center stage, Higa faced his tall opponent, an older man with a hard figure and a harder expression. Both men were dressed in a non-traditional fitted ensemble. It included a leather chest-guard in the way of safety features, and not much else. He brandished a saber. An arms-length and a half long, with a tempered edge and a curving hand-guard. Definitely not a practice sword. Definitely capable of hacking through a measly inch of leather and freeing some entrails.

"I thought a little exercise was in order," he told her, by way of explanation, swinging the saber around by his wrist. It invoked the image of a toddler pick his teeth with a kunai.

"Are you sure this is safe?"

Higa smiled. "No." Sakura stared. Higa either enjoyed showing off or tempting the gods. But in the few days that she'd known him, he didn't seem like a man who feared the grave. Rather the opposite, really.

The two men inclined their heads in respect and then slid into position. Both attacked at the same time, limbs flying into action. The older man's blade sliced into an opening at his left, and Higa parried with a twist of his wrist, spinning to stab the blade into the other man's solar plexus. The man jumped back, hacking the blade away.

Higa moved with unexpected experience, explaining his physique. Near perfect form, above average agility. Objectively, he was an accomplished swordsman.

Against the swordsman she was accustomed to observing, Higa would last all of the two seconds it would take Uchiha Sasuke to draw his blade. Her teammate was lethal and efficient, single-minded in pursuing a goal, a quality she'd witnessed all too well.

Five years ago when he cut a path in blood for vengeance for his family. It didn't matter who stood in his way. Sensei, friend, teammate, no one could put a spark back into those dark eyes, corrupted beyond recognition with rage and pain. She didn't recognize him then. Not when she met him under that bridge, not when he asked her to kill Karin in a sick display of loyalty. Not when she heard the chirp of a thousand birds and felt the hair rise off the nape of her neck as electricity charged the air behind her, a sound that rung in her ears until the first time she treated him in a white coat.

_I'm sorry. _

_It's okay._

It was that easy for him to earn forgiveness. Perhaps she was a fool. But in the years that had passed since, he was the epitome of calm and courteous. Perfectly behaved, perfectly spoken... and perfectly withdrawn.

Until last night. Why?

Sakura chewed her lip. For the mission? That was a very Sasuke thing to do, to disregard rules for an unorthodox route to accomplish the goal. Or perhaps maybe last night in her dressing room was an all a fantasy derived from her pent-up hormones.

"Nanami?"

Sakura blinked. "Yes?"

Higa wiped the sweat from his brow and stuck his saber into the ground, where it embedded in the wood and stood straight up. They were alone in the gym. "Fantasizing about me?"

She snorted. "I was watching the match. You are skilled."

He tilted his head. "And how would you know about skill, Nanami?"

"You aren't a bloody smear on the floor."

He appeared satisfied with this answer, beginning to shrug off his leather vest. Underneath, he wore a thin mesh shirt, fitted pants, and boots. Then he stopped, turned. "Would you like to learn?"

"Sword fighting?"

"Yes."

"I'm wearing a kimono." She'd stayed the night in a settee in his chamber, waiting for him to regain consciousness.

"Then take it off." Higa's eyes shone with a strange eagerness. Sakura was beginning to suspect that he was a bit unhinged.

"I don't want to."

His expression flattened. "I've changed my mind about our agreement. You'll do exactly what I say, when I say, or I'll send a team of Iwa-nin to your _herb shop_ and find out exactly what a difficult girl like yourself wishes to accomplish in my complex."

Sakura turned and began to remove the outer layers of her kimono, folding them in a stack of thick fabric on the ground. After functioning, for the better part of a day, as a human hangar to a pound and a half of expensive silk, to stand in cotton shorts was absolute liberation.

She stepped onto the slightly raised sparring area. To his credit, Higa's gaze slipped down to her breasts for only the briefest of seconds before returning to her face.

"Good," he said. "Pick up the saber. Thumb flush to the guard," he said.

Sakura did so, careful to grip the sword hard, and turning it deliberately to the inside of her wrist.

"Loosen up with your fingers. Turn the guard out more."

She adjusted, and then slid into a shoddy defensive form, full of openings.

"Widen your stance." Higa dropped his saber, in a careless gesture that nearly sliced off his toes, and moved to her side. A foot slid between her legs, and he manually corrected the angle and extension of her blade.

"Perfect," he whispered, a self-satisfied smile playing on his full lips. "Now let's practice some parries."

Before she could get a word out, he lunged with his sword, flicking in an uppercut. A move intended to skewer the throat in one fluid motion. Wildly inappropriate for use on a novice, especially from that proximity.

Should she parry? The speed it required would give her away. She dropped backwards, falling on her butt. His blade missed her chin by inches.

"What do you think you're doing?" A familiar, low voice growled from the doorway.

Sasuke swept into the room like a storm. He'd traded field gear for fitted black trousers, military boots, and a nondescript grey shirt that covered his ANBU tattoo. Bandages wound up his thick forearms, concealing summoning seals on the right and the council's penitentiary seal on the left. From his waist, Kusanagi hung in its enamel sheath. He was a promise of death on legs.

... who should have been keeping a low profile. Her heart fluttered. What was he doing here? Sakura scrambled to her feet. Pitch black eyes drank in her flimsy, layering camisole and compression shorts before flicking to Higa, and she could've sworn they gleamed red for a second. He approached the two of them in the center of the mat.

Higa frowned, sinking his saber into the wood again and leaning into it. The blade bent precariously. "And you are?"

Jun ran in behind Sasuke, a torrent of flyaway brown hair and sweaty skin. "He's Nanami's handler, my lord," he gasped. "Ito Kyouya, employee of the Tachibana family."

Higa regarded Sasuke from up close, taking in the forty-inch sword at his waist.

"You gave Nanami to me two days ago. What she and I do together is no longer any concern of yours." Higa's expression was deceptively casual.

Irritation sparked in Sasuke's eyes, and Sakura shot him a warning look. "Her safety is my responsibility."

"And fulfilling my desires is her responsibility. Rather, her choice." Higa smiled at Sakura.

"This is not a toy," Sasuke said, tearing the saber from her grasp and dropping something into her palm in the same move. "I was not aware that 'responsibility' included indulging your deluded fantasies."

"Watch your mouth." Higa wasn't smiling anymore.

To any bystander, Sasuke's expression looked slightly displeased, neutral even. But Sakura knew. The slant of his brow, the tension in his jaw, the way his right shoulder just dropped for easy access to his sword's hilt. Sasuke was furious. Higa was a wrong word and a misstep away from earning his wings.

Desperately catching Sasuke's eyes, she pleaded for him to swallow his arrogance and remain levelheaded. This was his first mission as captain_, _and if anyone needed a few green marks on their permanent record, it was him. He had the seals to prove it.

With great effort, Sasuke grit out, "That was impudent of me." Sakura continued to stare. "… I apologize." More. "_Higa-sama."_ It was a wonder the act of humility did not set his head on fire.

Higa seemed satisfied. "I accept your apology. I can understand that it must be hard to relinquish control over Nanami's wellbeing after guarding it for so long." He paused. "I trust you find your accommodations adequate?"

"Yes."

"Excellent. I'm curious about the guard-for-hire industry. If you're free, please join us for a dinner party on Friday night."

Sasuke looked like he prefer to swallow a kunai. "It would be my pleasure."

"Eight o'clock then. Jun will be in touch."

With one final scathing look at her, Sasuke exited the room. Higa picked up both of the sabers. As he hung them both on the rack, he began, "That handler of yours…"

"I'm sorry, he's a bit hotheaded. He was just concerned for me."

"It didn't seem like the kind of concern inspired by a delivery fee."

"Our family is a return customer. Long business relationship."

The look Higa shot her was accusatory. He didn't trust Sasuke, and he suspected her of ulterior motives. There was nothing she could do to alleviate his suspicions without first clearing the information with her teammates first. She was pushing it with her unsubstantiated backstory as it was. Luckily, he didn't push the issue.

"That's all for now, then. I have business to attend to."

Before she could gauge the possibility of him letting her butt in on that business, he waved goodbye. "Jun will return you to your rooms. I'll see you Friday night, Nanami."

She nodded, and he exited for his personal suite, where he'd spent the previous evening recovering. It was, she learned, separate from the chambers where he entertained guests (mostly female).

Jun led her back to her own rooms, which was in a different wing from the Warlord's. Her own suite was comfortably furnished, and included a bedroom, closet, and bathroom with a small living room area. Most importantly, it had a large window that opened easily for roof access.

Once alone, she opened the note Sasuke put into her fist.

RDV. T-1. TOP.

Sakura stripped for the shower. Rendezvous on the rooftop one hour after delivery of the note. So she had about 30 minutes to come with an explanation for what had become of their mission in the past day. Lovely.


	5. Underneath the Underneath

Chapter 5: Underneath the Underneath

"We're fucked."

Sai had worn that same, strained smile through both Sasuke and Sakura's recounts. His skin gleamed even in the grey light of the cloudy afternoon. The air was charged and thick with eminent rain. Sasuke leaned next to him on the railing of the roof. Sai continued, "You invoked his suspicion. You yielded to his threat of investigation, a threat we cannot discount because there _is no little leisure town with an herb store next to Iwagakure._"

"Stop that, you'll hurt yourself," Sakura said. The smile faded. "It's not as bad as it sounds. I didn't specify Iwa. And I think Higa feels a debt to me for saving his life. He wouldn't harm me without irrefutable provocation."

Sasuke scowled. "Does charging you with a sword not count as harm?"

"I honestly don't so. At least, not in his mind. Sasuke-kun, I appreciate the concern, try to be more careful. You acted hostile, and he noticed. Maybe leave the sword next time."

Sasuke pressed his lips together. Sai spoke up. "We were monitoring the mic feeds. One of the guards mentioned that Higa was dueling with a girl with pink hair, and Sasuke bolted, without a word. Pacifism was the last thing on his mind."

She gaped at the man in question. "Did you think I would lose?" _Am I that weak?_

"Your strength relies on chakra. You couldn't use it without giving yourself away." _Yes._

Maybe it was the stress of the past few days, walking on knife's edge around Higa and helplessly confused by Sasuke's actions, but Sakura sort of lost it. "Higa signs contracts for a living. My _career_ is based on my ability to defend myself. If one measly civilian is enough to take me out, then I'm not worth my paycheck."

"The situation was unsecure. You'd spent the night in his rooms and then were facing down his sword the next morning. What was I supposed to do?"

The cold truth struck Sakura. He thought she'd tried to seduce Higa and failed. "Try _trusting me._"

"Enough," Sasuke groused. "My team. My rules."

"I can't believe you're pulling rank on me."

Sai cut in, "How did you explain him to Higa?"

Sakura scowled. "I said we had a long history doing business." Sasuke snorted.

Sai sighed and pulled a scroll from his pocket. "We intercepted one of his scouts in town today, returning from the west." He tossed it to her

Sakura glanced through the contents. It was an espionage report, complete with lists of sources contacted, resources consumed, and casualties encountered. The bulk of the page, however, was a detailed financial report from a mine of some sort, with a single table at the very bottom:

ANNUAL YIELD—124,000 CD

PURITY—99.7 PERCENT (AA)

REFACT. INDEX—WHITE

The mineral's name was redacted. Sai looked at her expectantly.

"A commodity evaluation," she said. "There were rumors that one mountain in northwestern Stone was filled with invaluable raw gemstone. But political insurrections in the area and the dangerous terrain put investors off development. They've been sending hunters in for years now, but no one's made it back alive."

"Until now," Sai said. "We duplicated the scout's report. The original is on Higa's desk at the moment."

"This is bad. Higa will finance this project with Suna's and our iron contracts, which will put our men as targets for the guerillas. But there's no chance the council will approve of the transaction, and Higa knows this, so he'll try to keep it under wraps until his deal is secure." Sakura said.

Sasuke spoke up, captain mask on. "Nothing's for certain. We'll send preliminary warnings to Konoha and Suna, but we stay until we confirm his intent. Eliminate the possibility that the original scroll was a copy from his competitors. It would raise too many flags for us to vanish as soon as he receives the report."

He turned to Sai. "Tail the scout. Find out who else he tells. Don't interfere if Higa tries to kill him."

Sai nodded and intoned, "And you two, try not to kill each other." Then he jumped off the roof, back to town.

It was just the two of them now, and the air crackled with charged energy. The atmosphere was uncomfortable, and it took her a moment before she realized why. They'd never fought before. Love was blinding, and she'd been too infatuated before he deserted to criticize anything of his. After his return, she felt too distanced.

Sasuke, for his part, seemed intent on ignoring their previous exchange. "Be careful with Higa. Don't let a word slip about the contract. Earn his trust. He wants you. Take advantage of it," he said.

Ah, and they'd come full circle. Sasuke was intent on getting her into this man's pants. That stung, more than a little.

"Yes, captain_._"

"Update me with any developments. This deal takes precedent over his other contracts."

"Certainly, captain_." _

She was being obstinate, and it felt _good_, and she couldn't seem to stop. To be honest, a small part of her had always been frustrated by Sasuke's more incendiary actions, but she never felt confident enough to express discontent. This mission had done her a favor, really. It had her dignity hemorrhaging on the floor, and now it was like the floodgates had opened.

He scowled. "Sakura, you're being ridiculous. I was trying to protect you."

Images of his back, from ages twelve to twenty, rose in her mind. He faced down the enemy in her stead, shielding her from the brunt of battle and leaving her to huddle in his shadow. "I'm not a little girl anymore, Sasuke-kun."

He stopped before her, dark eyes burning with something inscrutable, so close she could feel him breathe. "You're a woman," he said. Large, warm hands closed around her arms. "And he's a man."

Without warning, his grasp turned to iron, pinning her arms to her body with bruising strength. She strained with all her might, but he held her completely immobile, without effort. His fists were like shackles, his eyes impassive. "Don't underestimate him just because he doesn't use chakra," Sasuke said.

It was a brusque display of power. And it reduced her eight-year career as a kunoichi to a single weakness with stunning ease. With chakra, she could fell an army of tailed beast replicates. Dry, she was caught. Authority delivered with steaming sides of humiliation and arrogance. Sasuke's trademark. Today, it was pushing all the wrong buttons.

She aimed a toppling kick at his navel, putting her all into it. She expecting him to release her to dodge. He didn't. Sasuke took the full blunt of her blow, lurched, and pulled her down with him.

The world tipped. They fell in a heap of limbs onto the concrete of the roof, her head bouncing off his chest with jarring impact. When the stars cleared, Sakura extracted herself, his grip finally slackened. He winced, having cushioned the fall for both of them. With his dark hair splayed about his face, he looked every bit his young age.

"It's all about proving a point with you. Teaching a lesson," she said, but the anger was gone. It was really hard to yell at someone you were on top of.

"It's about doing what's best for the mission."

"Is that why you kissed me?" she whispered.

Wrong move. The mental shutters came crashing down on his face, with the practiced finesse of a man who'd spent years shutting out unwanted emotion. It was clear that they were notgoing there. Sasuke turned away. He focused resolutely at the ground next to him. A thin stream of blood crawled down his neck, soaking the grey of his collar.

So the kiss meant nothing. Who was she to blame him for giving her false hope? Unwanted hurt clutched her heart. The memory of their fiery kiss had rarely left her mind since it happened. It had probably never crossed his even once. She sighed. "Come here."

He said nothing but allowed her to sit him up and pull off his ruined shirt to survey the damage. Scrapes up his neck and elbows, minor enough to heal. She set about treating him with tiny amounts of chakra, and she noticed the state of his back. New scars, thick and shiny, decorated the span of his skin. Sakura frowned. The medic-nin responsible for those deserved to be fired. She pushed chakra into the old wounds, watching the keloid tissue melt seamlessly into new skin. Handiwork complete, she couldn't help but smile and run a hand down his newly unmarred back. "Done."

He turned to reach for his shirt.

"Wait," she said. Sakura flattened her palm against his lower stomach. "Hurt?"

Usually, he was a star patient, relaxed and open to her chakra. Today, he tensed immediately at her touch. "No."

She probed anyway, ignoring the grit of his teeth. A patch of capillary damage and deep tissue trauma in the shape of her own knee lay under his skin. Untreated, it would develop into a stunning purple bruise by tomorrow. "You're such a child," she said. And okay, maybe the sight was a _little _more satisfying than it should have been. She finished up reconstructing the tissue, fingers aglow with green.

"I think I've got something on my hip, too. Should I take my pants off?" he asked drolly.

She rolled her eyes and threw his shirt at him, ruthlessly quashing the tiny part of her wanted to nod at his offer. No sign of the man from her bedroom remained. But how did he fake that kiss? That _look?_ Or was it merely lust on his part, indiscriminate and unemotional? She was halfway across the roof when his voice, quiet and low, drifted across the empty space.

"It meant nothing, Sakura. Don't read into things that aren't there."

She shut the door firmly behind her.

* * *

Thursday came and went. She spent the time researching in Higa's extensive library. As it turned out, she didn't have to look long. Every scroll on precious minerals mentioned it, the only gem in the world capable of refracting pure, white chakra—crystal gem.

And she _had_ seen it before, on the First's necklace. It'd shattered when the Kyuubi broke the seal. That sliver of gem had been priceless, worth two mountains of gold. Forget forbidden scrolls. The value of 124,000 carats would be in the hundreds of millions of ryo, easily. She slid the scroll back in place, wiping her fingerprints. It was very likely that Sakura and her team had just become privy to the largest financial schemes in written history.

A package waited for her outside her door with a note. Once inside, she opened it. In neat kana, it read:

_Change of plans. Business dinner first, 6:30PM Friday. Black tie. _

_Please be good. _

_\- Masao_

Sakura snorted at his last line and opened the package. There were four boxes. The first was lace lingerie, which she promptly threw aside.

Next came the dress. Fading sunlight filtered through her sheer curtains, catching on the metallic threading of the rose-gold fabric. Fifty ryo said it would expose too much of her boobs and there would be nowhere to hide shuriken. She slipped it on.

The gown draped from clasps on her shoulders to fall over her body in elegant lines. A V- neckline plunged between her breasts. Fabric gathered at her waist and pooled around her ankles. Behind, the champagne-colored silk bracketed a daring expanse of her back, hanging to kiss the curve of her lower spine. The heavy fabric of the skirt balanced the risqué draping of the top, and Sakura was slender enough to pull the look from explicit to inviting. Box three was shoes: nude, stiletto, and very tall; and box four were earrings. She put everything on and tottered to the mirror.

Neck down, she looked like the women at Higa's party a few nights ago. Neck up, she was Sakura the kunoichi, complete with a hair bun, pale skin, and eyebags from Sasuke-derived anxiety.

Settling before the mirror, Sakura quickly glossed on makeup, mimicking the girls she'd seen at the last party. Bronze eyeshadow into the hollows of her lids and mascara for her lashes. She rimmed her lids with kohl liner and patted on blush for color. Finally, she dabbed on a layer of rose lipstick.

She sat back. As a kunoichi, she very rarely used cosmetics. Most women in her profession eschewed beauty for practicality until it became routine, even in their off-duty time. This was what it felt like to be one of the girls who warmed Higa's bed. This was what it felt like to trade love for wealth. It wasn't pleasant at all.

* * *

At 6:30, someone knocked at the door. She opened it, expecting the same guard. Instead, Windsor-knotted silk and pressed lapels greeted her.

Higa froze when he saw her. She watched his grey eyes skim down her front, lingering on skin the dress bared. Plain lust darkened his gaze. He glanced at the bed in the room with longing then her a heated look that Sakura was sure had liquefied the resolve of many a mistress before her.

Sakura pushed them into the hallway and shut the door.

"I'm looking for a girl called Nanami. About this tall, kind of crass?"

"Absolutely side-splitting."

He guided her down the hall, his touch on her back uncomfortably intimate. "You are ravishing," he stated.

"And you have quite an eye for women's dresses."

"It's only natural. My bedroom floor is so frequently littered with them."

"What would your business partners think of such deviant hobbies?"

"They have enough secrets of their own." The self-satisfaction of his smile suggested that those secrets regularly suffered trust breaches.

"And which of these upstanding gentlemen are we dining with tonight?"

They turned the corner and entered the main hall. Before he could speak, Jun materialized with a small scroll in hand. He escorted them outside. The night air was warm. The horses reined to the carriage flicked their tails with impatience.

Internally, Sakura checked for the tiny pulse of Sasuke's chakra in her neck. Tracking jutsu. They'd installed it in anticipation of such a situation. She'd clipped the mic to the base of her head, too.

Higa helped her in and climbed in after.

"We're meeting with a woman who owns a construction company. She needs my money, and I need her to build something. We've been discussing for a while. If all goes well, things should be finalized tonight."

Nothing about crystal gem, but it could've been a related business. "What are you building?"

"A road."

"To where?"

"A mountain."

"Which one?"

"You'll see." He regarded her with a heavy gaze, head leaning on the carriage frame. "So many questions, kitten."

She shrugged, acutely aware that he'd picked a dress for her in which it was impossible to conceal weapons, and shoes in which it was impossible to run. "I'm a curious girl."

"A difficult girl."

"You like it."

He smiled faintly. "Yes. But business is a delicate ordeal, a power play. My public image, including how I conduct my personal relationships, will be scrutinized for flaws. I enjoy your prickliness in private, but in the company of others, you must yield to me."

"Fine."

* * *

The restaurant was a traditional Stone-style establishment, judging by the decor. A small cavalry of uniformed servers bowed to them in sync at the entrance, before the maître d' walked Sakura and Higa to one of the private rooms.

An older couple rose from the table.

"Masao, always a pleasure," the woman said, extending her hand. Higa pressed it to his lips in the traditional Stone greeting, recognizing her as equal.

"Thank you for arriving on such short notice, Kaede."

Kaede was of average height, thick-boned, and looked to be in her early forties. Straight, grey hair pulled back into a neat knot at the base of her neck, displaying a face that was handsome, if heavy-featured. Her gaze was sharp and observant, though.

Higa turned to Sakura, a hand on her lower back. "My date, Tachibana Nanami," he introduced. "Nanami, this is Gumi Kaede and Kanpo Daisuke." Her date was an unassuming man—quiet and tall, with the type of face that set people at ease.

Sakura bowed to the pair. Daisuke returned the gesture, and Kaede inclined her head. Higa moved Sakura's chair for her, waiting before seating himself, easily faking the chivalrous gentleman. With everyone settled in, two menus came. Higa took one, and Daisuke passed the other one to Kaede. When they'd placed the orders and settled, the pleasantries began.

"Such a pretty girl. Forgive me, but you don't look like a native…?" Kaede began.

"My parents are from the Land of Wind." Sakura smiled pleasantly.

"Marvelous country," she said. "And where do you live now?"

"A little resort town-" Sakura wracked her brains for details from a mission she was on when she was 14. "-by the Blue River." Tingling on the back of her neck indicated that Higa was watching closely.

The waiter came and filled their glasses with red wine. Kaede reached for it immediately, coating the inside of her glass with swift turns of the wrist. "Ah, the one with the apothecaries?"

Sakura nodded.

"Quite a ways from home, then. How did you two meet?"

"Her father is a valued partner," Higa lied smoothly. "His company completed a bridge for me near the Shan mountains. Remarkable work."

"Straight to the chase as always, Masao." Kaede took a long sip. "Should I be worried about competition?"

He sipped too, looking every bit at ease. "We are friends, Kaede. I know the quality of your men's work. If you can mobilize by the requested date, this deal is yours."

The waiter knocked and entered, bearing plates as wide as the length of her forearm. The actual quantity of consumable food, compared to sauce scribbles and decorative herbs, was negligible. But it smelled wonderful. The first course was tuna tartare, followed by a jardinière of summer squash, and then seared duck. As they ate, Higa and Kaede openly discussed the details of their contract. It was jarring, how uninhibited they were. Sakura was beginning to understand the advantages of escort missions.

Price estimations and dates shot back and forth across the table. Then, Kaede said something that had Sakura stiffening.

"It's not the date that's the problem. Aside from the difficult terrain, western Stone is an unstable area, and the insurrections will pose a danger to my crew. Can you guarantee their safety?"

"I would hire them guards."

"Shinobi again?" Kaede scowled. "Brutes. They're more dangerous than the terrorists. I haven't set foot in one of those dreadful villages in years." She sipped her wine. "I don't understand how you haggle with them. Why, one false step, and you could find yourself burnt to a crisp!"

Higa laughed. "They are not without laws. And they speak the language of all men- money. Trust me, you'd be much safer behind a line of trained shinobi than rogue mercenaries if the Scorpion attacks."

The Scorpion ran a black market circle that supplied weapons to numerous missing-nin in the Land of Wind and Earth. After the death of Kazuzu, bookkeeper of Akatsuki, he inherited all of the illicit contracts and became a staple in Iwa and Suna's Bingo Books. Hopefully, Sasuke and Sai were getting every word of this.

She was so attuned to the conversation that, at first, she thought she imagined it. But, it hit again. A flux of chakra, too precise to be accidental.

Someone nearby was trying to cast a jutsu, and there was a couple hundred million ryo sipping wine next to her. An unlikely coincidence.

"Excuse me, I'm going to freshen up," she said, quickly folding her napkin.

Kaede stood too, damn. "That sounds like a lovely idea."

Sakura forced a smile and followed her out, as a waitress led them to the bathroom. The hallway outside was empty, screen doors shielding them from the main area of the restaurant. The chakra signature was gone. They stood at adjacent sinks and made eye contact in the mirror. Sakura smiled, thinking of excuses.

"I know you're lying," Kaede said.

A chill ran down Sakura's spine. "What?"

Impassive, Kaede pulled out her lipstick and retouched in the mirror. "That resort town closed six years ago, after some Leaf shinobi came and blew an entire street away. Bad for business." She capped it. "I don't know what you're hiding, but I can guess why. You're not the first girl to fall in love with Higa's wallet."

Sakura said nothing, running through the list of genjutsu she knew for amnesia.

"But girl to girl, take my word for it. It's not worth it. The clothes, the jewels… they're amazing when you're young. But one day, you'll wake up alone, pushing forty and still dating, wishing you'd followed up on that flame from twenty years ago…"

Kaede's voice trailed off, brushing an unsteady line of lipstick on her chin. Tipsy. She'd imbibed just enough to for a respectable businessperson, but too much for a lightweight. Sakura picked up a paper towel and wiped the excess rouge off her lips. Then she turned on the faucet.

"Drink some, you'll feel better," she told Kaede, who obliged.

"You're not his usual type," Kaede said, clenching the sink. "The last girl he came with was this tall thing, all bones and dark hair. Kept asking questions-"

Just then, the chakra flux hit again, ten times stronger than before.

"Be right back," Sakura said and bolted out the door.

In seconds, she was back down the hall, tugging the ornamental chopsticks out of her hair. With a twist, she freed the half dozen senbon within. The lighting in the restaurant was dim, but she could make out the outline of a figure, hanging from the ceiling. Hands clasped in a seal, facing Higa's door.

Her senbon flew. Two buried themselves in the wall, and the other, in the assailant. The figure cursed and dropped to the ground. Sakura charged, but her target saw her and melted into the ground. The chakra signature disappeared.

She heard a pair of footsteps behind her and had just enough time to dig her needles out of the wall. She slipped them into their enamel sheathes.

"Nanami! There you are," Kaede said, rounding the corner with the waitress. "Why did you run off?"

Sakura held up the chopsticks and smiled, sheepishly. "Dropped this."

Kaede took in her hair, hanging free between her shoulders. "Ah, it's alright. He'll like it down."

They re-entered the room. If Higa thought anything was strange, he made no sign of it, continuing negotiations with Kaede with ease. Sakura was not so lucky.

By the time the bottle was drained, and the contract was signed, and the carriage was parked, Sakura was alert enough to strike at the next stray cat that crossed their path. It wasn't until they were rounding the bend to Higa's complex that she breathed again, with with trepidation.

Someone wanted Higa's head. And she was right in their way.


	6. Wanted You To Know

Chapter 6: Wanted You To Know

It was astounding, the ease with which Sakura located Sasuke in the ballroom chamber.

He was striking in the traditional Stone regalia: a dark suit jacket, square at the shoulders and tapered at the waist; pants that closely followed the lean lines of his legs; and a collared shirt that closed at the base of his throat. No sword, no knives, and no seals. Then again, weapons were never requisite to Uchiha Sasuke's lethality.

And that lethality, it seemed, extended from the battlefield to the bedroom. Sasuke was surrounded by women. As Sakura watched, one girl swung a lock of hair over her shoulder, flaunting impressive cleavage, while another slid a flute of champagne into his hand.

"Try this," Higa said, pushing a similar glass toward her. "My old favorite, from a house in the Land of Nectar. Haven't ordered it in a while."

Sakura swallowed a mouthful. It tasted like stale apples. The dryness and the carbonation made her eyes water. Barely, she managed a sound of strangled enjoyment. Alcohol appreciation was one skill the Fifth Hokage had failed to bequeath to her apprentice. The warlord did not notice, reaching for a refill. Considering the number of glasses he had at dinner already, he was well on his way to merry intoxication.

They stood by a cocktail table near the edge of the room. Men, all middle-aged and portly, ambled over occasionally with their female companions in tow. Higa would speak to his business acquaintances. Sakura would pretend to sip her drink. The other women, Sakura noticed, kept their distance. They stared, they preened, but not one high-heeled foot approached that wasn't following a man. The social divide in the crowd was clear—painted escorts and wealthy moguls.

The one exception in the room was taking it all in stride. Sasuke appeared deep in conversation with a familiar woman. As Sakura watched, that woman took his arm and steered him toward their table.

Higa saw too. He smiled widely. "Ah, it seems your handler has met Riku. Another old favorite."

The woman, Riku, had a figure carved in long, sloping lines. Inhumanly long legs tucked into stiletto ankle boots that put her at eye-level with Sasuke. Sable hair framed her face in a sharp bob, and makeup accentuated her elven features. Under a fan of mile-long eyelashes, her dark gaze was seducing.

Cold, svelte, gorgeous. Sakura fought a snort. If Sasuke had a type, this would be it.

"Riku, resplendent as usual," Higa said, making no move to kiss her hand. "And Kyouya. Thank you for joining us this evening."

"My pleasure," Sasuke said. Then he looked at Sakura, froze, and tore his gaze away. The pause was nearly imperceptible, but it had been there. And damn was it hard not to smirk.

"And you are…?" Riku asked her. There was a strange glint in those dark eyes, not quite malicious but definitely not warm.

"Tachibana Nanami," Sakura replied with a bow. "Pleased to make your acquaintance."

"Likewise." Riku eyed Higa's arm around her waist. "Ito-san says he's known you a long time. How do you two know each other?"

Sakura caught her captain's roving gaze. "Business relationship. My family has a long history with his," Sakura said. Then she realized her mistake.

Higa raised his eyebrows at Sasuke. "Your whole family is involved in the guard industry?"

To Sasuke's credit, he didn't so much as flinch. The Uchiha Massacre was a horrific event in Konoha's history that was still addressed with hushed tones. A legendary clan, reduced to one pair of brothers in a single night. When Sasuke was younger, the very mention of Itachi would set him off in a fit of rage. Now, he just closed himself off. Sakura couldn't help but wonder if something transpired between the two during the war.

"It's our tradition," Sasuke said.

Riku smiled, eyes inching down his figure in a decidedly predatory manner. The glint was there again. "With all due respect, you look too young to have been working _that_ long. And where did you say you brought her from? The border? That's an awfully long journey for two uninvolved individuals."

The insinuation was clear, and Riku was hitting a little to close to home with the work questions. Shinobi in established villages began training in childhood, a decade before their unaffiliated counterparts. It _would _be strange for a guard, fresh out of apprenticeship, to accept such a difficult job. Higa frowned between Sasuke and Sakura, as if trying to picture them together. It was high time for some damage control.

"We've known each other since we were young. My family did a lot of traveling a few years ago, and his family's protection was invaluable on those journeys."

"I see," Riku said in a dubious tone. Thankfully, she let the matter drop. She turned her attention to Sakura, sizing her up. "_So_ many pink-haired girls walking around lately. Is this a new trend?"

"No, hers is natural," Higa cut in, having spent the majority of the conversation gulping wine.

Riku scowled. "Salacious, Masao-kun. Drunk already?"

"Drunk enough to stand your presence."

"Curious, you weren't complaining two weeks ago."

He smiled, with teeth. "We all make mistakes."

Riku's composure cracked, and she offered Higa a few choice words on what she thought of those mistakes. He returned the gesture, with interest. Barbed pleasantries flew back and forth between the two parties, as the conversation descended into a contemptuous match between ex-lovers. Sakura caught Sasuke's eye. Quietly, she excused herself under the guise of fetching more wine. Neither Higa nor Riku noticed.

* * *

Sakura selected one of the alcoves by the windows. It was small and dim, but its heavy curtains offered privacy from the main ballroom. Minutes later, Sasuke joined her. He filled the space with ease, crowding her into the window. He smelled, as always, like the air before a thunderstorm. Strangely, it made her feel safe.

"I hope you find my protection _invaluable_ on all our journeys to come," he said, smirking.

Sakura pressed her lips together. Fate didn't play fair. Even insufferable, Sasuke was handsome. The moonlight played over all the perfect planes of his face and lit the rare, playful glint in his eyes. In Academy, he had always been the popular crush. As a man, he was downright sinful. Her stomach, the traitor, fluttered.

Ignoring his comment, Sakura turned to face the window. "Riku asked a lot questions," Sakura began. It was futile. Their eyes met in the reflection. "A little too many. Do you think she's the girl Kaede was talking about?"

"She fits the description, but I can't imagine her interested in Higa's contract."

Sakura bit her lip. "I can't either. But… I don't know. There's just something about her and that way she looks at you." Like she was ready to eat him up.

"Jealous?" Sasuke asked, mindlessly playing her hair. She'd grown it out after the war, mostly because she was too busy to keep up with regular trims. Tonight, it was free of her usual ponytail.

Sakura snorted. "Did you want me to be?" He said nothing and stroked a lock of her hair. His hand grazed a path down her exposed back from nape to waist. Shivers ran down her spine. Sakura fought the urge to sink back into his heat. _Don't read into things that aren't there. _

She straightened. "Anyway, did you and Sai catch the culprit from the restaurant?"

He fanned the ends of her hair between his thumb and index finger. Absently, he brought them to his lips and blew, observing the disturbance in the strands. The hot air skimmed right over the shell of her ear, and Sakura fought a whimper. "There was a chakra spike a few miles away after you hit the mud clone. Sai's on it. I'll catch up later," he said.

"A few _miles _away? That's-" Sakura sputtered. Performing techniques through clones was taxing enough, but coupled with that sort of distance, it demanded great chakra control. The nukenin was at least A-ranked. "Who do you think hired him? A competitor?"

"Or someone who doesn't want crystal gem to go on the market."

Sakura chewed her lip. Crystal gem was a ninja tool, but civilians could also profit from its trade, so anyone could be implicated. If Higa's mine came into operation, it would birth a new market. Contracts would be signed and deals would be struck. There would, at the very least, be a scramble among the shinobi nations to secure the greatest share from the warlord. At least Konoha had a foot in the door as a return customer. "We should update HQ again."

"Mm."

"Did you ever hear ever back from our first letter?"

"Naruto said the council's meeting tonight. Decision pending." The turn of events on their mission was as serious as she feared, if it warranted an emergency assembly.

"Anything else?"

"'Don't be a bastard to Sakura-chan. She's smarter than you.'"

Sakura grinned at Sasuke's reflection in the glass. "He likes me better." She was teasing, though. Naruto loved all his friends endlessly, and Sasuke even more. The two were like brothers. _Brother. _Sakura froze.

"About before," she said quietly. "I- Sorry for mentioning your family. I know it's a difficult subject for you."

His hand stilled in her hair. "It's alright. It's been years."

_"_That doesn't mean it stops hurting."

Sasuke didn't respond for a long time, long enough that she thought he wasn't going to respond. The silence stretched between them. Then, she felt his hands slide out of her hair, over the skin of her shoulders, to clasp her arms. It felt like he was holding her for balance, although for who's sake, she couldn't say. Quietly, he said, "I was wrong about him."

"About who?"

"Itachi. He wasn't evil."

"What?" Sakura tried to turn, but his grasp was iron.

His next words tumbled out. "My clan was planning a coup to overthrow the Senju government. Danzo and the village elders wanted the clan gone. Itachi was the perfect scapegoat, capable and willing. He was a pacifist. Loved the village. Didn't want civil war. So on the date the council set, he tore through the complex with Obito and killed everyone."

Sasuke stepped closer and pressed his face into her hair.

"He threatened Danzo. Made the elders promise. Joined Akatsuki. Everything he ever did was out of love for the village and for me. He-" Sasuke's voice was hoarse with emotion. "He let me kill him. For closure. He wasn't ever going to tell me the truth."

Sakura ran her fingers over his cold hands, trying to rub some heat into them. This time, she didn't mind his bruising strength. "Itachi was so brave," she said softly. "He loved you a lot."

"During the war, he stopped the reanimated. Naruto said he didn't want anyone to know. He was worried about tarnishing the honor of our clan."

"He was a hero, Sasuke-kun. What a great older brother you had."

Sasuke made a muffled sound, and his grip loosened. Sakura turned and wrapped her arms around him, heart wrenching. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, and she tangled her fingers in his hair. He didn't cry, but Sakura didn't think he could anymore. His arm snaked around her waist, and he clutched her to him, as if he couldn't bring her close enough.

Gently, she stroked the back of his head. His breaths were shaky, his exhales warming the skin of her neck. She stood there a long time, wrapped in his arms, counting his breaths. Eventually, they slowed.

Sakura wondered when he was last comforted like this. If he had ever been comforted like this. Throughout the shinobi world, Sasuke was a war hero with a stained record. His rampage in Kumo was written off as temporary insanity from Orochimaru's conditioning. But this was the truth reason for his rage, she realized. No training of the Snake could put a dent into a psyche that was already as warped as Sasuke's had been. How many people knew? During his trial, Sasuke had kept silent. It must have been to honor Itachi's last wish—that the truth of the Massacre remained buried.

"Thank you for telling me, Sasuke-kun," Sakura said.

"I wanted you to know," he said, voice rougher than sandpaper. "I wanted to tell you." His gaze flickered over her face in confusion.

She pressed a palm to his chest. Beneath hand, his heart beat a rhythm she'd learned well. "Thank you."

He cradled her face in his hands. His skin was warm and rough on her cheeks, impossibly gentle. From this close, she could count his eyelashes, see where they tangled at the corners of his eyes, and watch his pupils dilate.

"You're beautiful," he told her, and Sakura's heart shot straight into her throat. _Don't read into things, don't read into things, don't read into things…_

His gaze darkened, dropping to her parted lips. He didn't move. But he looked at her with such fierce longing, such vicious hunger thatSakura wanted to pull him down and close the distance herself.

She was on her tip toes when the first window shattered.

* * *

She heard the blast before she felt it, a whistling through the air punctuated by the sound of a thousand cracks. With inhuman speed, Sasuke pulled her to the ground. He threw himself over her a second before the spray of broken glass hit.

The wall boasted six enormous, floor-to-ceiling windows. Well, _had_ boasted. She counted five more blasts, nearly in unison. Then, with a loud hiss, the curtains were torn off. They dropped to the floor, like a deflated sail of a great ship, and light from the ballroom flooded the bay. The warm night air wafted in, smelling of dogwood and dew.

Dark figures broke into the room through the empty window frames. One cast a wind technique that sent a chandelier crashing to the ground. That was when the screaming began. Madness ensued as the partygoers abandoned their drinks and scrambled for the door.

Sasuke pulled her up. "You okay?" he asked.

Sakura bit back a comment on his overprotectiveness. "Yeah, thanks."

There were a dozen assailants, dressed in head to toe black. Tall, built, light on their feet—shinobi. Some had swords, others were barehanded. All concealed their headbands, a felony in Stone. Sakura took in the room. Higa had just one guard in the room, and the Iwa nin was slumped by the wall with a kunai through the throat. The door was coated in an earth technique of some sort, sealed shut.

Forty civilians, twelve rogues, and a locked room. It would be a bloodbath.

Sakura looked at Sasuke. "Permission to engage?"

He grimaced, and she followed his gaze to where Higa stood, alone and frantically searching the room. "Denied. I'll handle it."

Before she could protest, he took off, halfway across the ballroom in the blink of an eye.

First, Sasuke grabbed Higa by the collar, threw him into his chamber, and shut the door. Then, he turned to the assailants.

Sasuke killed with breathtaking efficiency. He kicked down the first assailant and stabbed him with his own sword. Punched another in the face. He tore his sleeves to release the seal on his arm, and shuriken dropped into his hand. Then, in a move so practiced it looked choreographed, he jumped, threw the stars, and exhaled a slew of fireballs. Phoenix fire. Flashy, but she supposed that was the point. The _katon_ technique attracted the attention of every rogue in the room, sparing the civilians from harm.

A sharp screech sounded from next to her. One of the shinobi hadn't been watching. He had a girl in his grasp, gearing up to break her neck with a twist. The girl was terrified, tears streaming down her face.

Sakura tore her dress at the thigh and flung the fabric over the girl's face. Then, she threw senbon at the nin, the needles paralyzing his right arm. His victim fell to the floor. She was in shock and, thankfully, made no move to remove the makeshift blindfold.

Sakura ran and slid on the glass shards. She cursed. Stupid heels. She had enough time to kick one off before the nin was upon her. He flipped through some hand seals, and the ground below melted.

The crackle of electricity filled the air, raising the hair off the nape of her neck. A spray of lightning needles pulverized the ground, and seconds later the bodies fell. Did that Sasuke know _any_ subtle techniques?

Sakura dodged the gaping sinkhole in the ground and drew some chakra to her foot. Using the wall for purchase, she spun in a roundhouse kick. Her stiletto heel pierced the assailant's neck. His flesh parted like butter. She checked to make sure that no one was watching, and then kicked a hole in the wall.

"Everyone, this way!" she yelled. They looked over but didn't move. Higa's guests were mostly huddled in a far corner of the room, terrified. As she watched, a stray windmill shuriken found its home in the wall, three inches from a stunned businessman's nose.

Oh, for heaven's sake. "Hurry! I found an exit!" That did the trick. The civilians scrambled toward her in a flurry of expensive clothes and coiffed hair. She was willing to bet this would be their last time at one of Higa Masao's parties.

A hand closed on her shoulder. "Sakura, it's me."

She spun. "Sai? Weren't you following the nin from the restaurant?"

"I was, until he broke through one of those windows."

Sakura surveyed the room. "Then he's dead now."

The ballroom was trashed. Smashed bottles, blood, and mud soaked into the carpeting. Cocktail tables were overturned, paintings were broken. Among the broken glass, a pile of glittering crystals was all that remained of the chandelier. Bodies littered the ground. Sasuke walked toward them, boots crunching on the carnage. Strange that the sight of him made her heart skip faster than an armed shinobi attack did. He stopped before them and looked at Sai.

"You," Sasuke said, shrugging off his ruined jacket and shirt. "Get lost."

Sai smiled. "I'm just following your orders, Sasuke-kun."

Sakura looked between them. Sai had come a long way in five years on the social graces front, learning emotions one-by-one like school subjects. This month's focus seemed to be "veiled dislike" and Sasuke was the unlucky study buddy. In all fairness, Sasuke didn't care, and he treated his _senpai_ as impolitely as he did everyone.

"Out," Sasuke growled. "Figure out how they got in."

Sai bowed, flipped Sasuke the finger, and then jumped out of the window. The warlord, engrossed in a heated conversation with the captain of his guard, did not notice him.

Rearing on her, Sasuke said, "I told you to stay put." He frowned at her torn dress and bare feet.

"Sorry. I was discreet," she assured him. "Sai said the attacker from the restaurant was one of them. Good call on getting Higa to safety."

He scowled. "It was unnecessary."

"Why?"

"The rogue nin weren't after him. They saw me throw him in there, but they kept on trashing the room."

"Scare tactic?"

"Most likely."

"I hadn't consider that." Sakura chewed her lip. "Looking back, I'm not a hundred percent sure what technique the shinobi at the restaurant was trying to use. Maybe he never intended on killing Higa either."

"Nothing's certain. We'll need to go through the bodies," he said, running a hand over his jaw and smearing red all over his neck. Then she noticed that the waistband of his pants was soaked in blood.

Sakura's eyes widened. "Why are you bleeding so much?" She moved, but he pressed a hand to her shoulder. Only then, did she notice that broken glass circled their feet, glinting like blades. It was a wonder her feet weren't cut up already. Sasuke exhaled, and a tiny piece of Sakura straightened in anticipation. She'd read romance novels. This was the part where he picked her up in his arms, princess-style, and carried her to safety, right? He grabbed her under the arms and swung her out of the glass, like a toddler.

"Idiot," he said. Then, a voice rang across the room.

"Nanami!"

Sakura turned. Higa was sprinting across the room toward her, golden hair flying. The guard was gone.

"_There_ you are," he said, coming to a stop. "Thank the gods."

Then he pressed his lips to hers. In that moment, she realized how silly she'd been, trying to practice. All the kisses in the world couldn't have alleviated how awkward she felt in Higa's arms, with his tongue wet on her lips. It felt hard and desperate. Finally it ended, and Sakura slid away.

"Are you hurt anywhere?" Higa asked.

She shook her head. "I'm fine. Kyouya-san protected me."

Higa turned to Sasuke, as if noticing him for the first time. Blond eyebrows rose. Sakura supposed that, to a civilian, her captain was quite a terror to behold. From a suited gentleman to a walking nightmare. Stark, black seals crawled up his corded arms. His bare torso was smeared in blood from chin to navel. More blood soaked into his pants. And… Sakura winced.

Sasuke's expression was the coldest she'd ever seen. Suddenly, she was very glad his Mangekyou was under seal. To his credit, Higa's knees did not buckle. "You were with her when the attack came."

"He was delivering a message from my obaa-san," Sakura cut in.

"Is that so." Higa said. "Kyouya-" _Damn it, Higa._ "-you shielded her when the windows smashed?"

Sasuke nodded, with a certain stiffness.

"And then you threw me into my chamber and put a hole in my wall?"

The frigid gaze was upon her. Sakura was weak. She examined her nails.

"And then, you killed twelve trained shinobi in seven minutes?"

Was that a hangnail? Fascinating, her cuticles were.

"And all of this you did to protect Nanami, because you were obligated by a business contract?"

Another nod.

Higa stilled, expecting an explanation. When nothing came, he nodded slowly, as if coming to terms with something. He turned to her and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Kitten, go to bed. I'll have a guard escort you to your room. I'm sorry how tonight turned out." Sasuke was doing his best impression of a wall of ice. She nodded. Then she left the ruins of the ballroom behind her, headed for the exit she'd created.

Behind her, Higa said to Sasuke, "Come with me, please."

She prayed those words wouldn't be his last.


	7. From Dusk to Dawn

Chapter 7: From Dusk to Dawn

Two hours later, Sakura sprinted free of the complex. Cold dew soaked her boots, as she crossed the last of the massive lawn. It was either very late or very early. The town was still unroused, its market street filled with empty booths, waiting in the blue light of dawn. Sakura picked out the tiny cafe sandwiched between two salons.

A man in his early seventies, the first soul she'd seen since the guard at her door, sat at the register. Other than him, the shop was empty. The chairs were still flipped on the tables.

"A lovely day, isn't it?" he asked, eyes on his paper.

"Full of promise," she stated, emphasizing the password.

Immediately, he rose from the counter, eyes trained on the paper. He led her to a small set of stairs in the back. She thanked him and climbed up, hearing the gate lock behind her. The man did not look at her face once during the exchange.

The wooden landing was flooded with pastel light. Rays of sun filtered through the gaps between the planks, exiling the dimness of the store below. She exited into a charming little patio, open-air but hidden from the main street. Sai sat at a table, painting.

She perched on his shoulder. "Pretty," she commented. His brush laid on colors with swift strokes, without consideration. Slowly, the sunrise bloomed on his canvas.

"Thanks."

She smiled. "You know, I've always liked dawn. It's more hopeful."

"More than what?"

"Dusk."

"But they're both the same— illusions. 'The sun is either above the horizon or below it, '" Sai recited, patting together dollops of Prussian blue and crimson-rose. "'And that means that day and night are linked in a way that few things are. There cannot be one without the other, yet they cannot exist at the same time.'" Satisfied, he laid the color on the canvas. "'Always together yet forever apart.'"

"That's a little morbid." Sakura scrunched up her nose.

He shrugged. "I read it in a book."

"'Forever apart but always together' sounds better."

"Yeah."

* * *

The sun broke over the mountain, and the street exploded with color. Dull greys became the red of apple skin, the bronze of ten-ryo coins, and the blue of a shop banner. Sakura had once asked him what using the Mangekyo Sharingan was like. It was like the sunrise, peeling away all obscurity. Vision in piercing clarity. Light and shadow as tactile as fire and ice. Colors intense enough to taste.

At least, that was how he remembered it from five years ago.

Sasuke found the cafe and entered. It was a small space, half-occupied with customers. An old man counted coins behind the register.

"Delivering the milk, boy?" he asked Sasuke.

"As promised."

Withered fingers stilled. Then, he slapped the ryo on the table and trudged to unlock the gate. Sasuke passed.

"_Murderer_."

Sasuke ascended the stairs and flipped through his pack for the parcel. The patio was small and well lit, and its only inhabitants occupied the center table. Sakura was leaning on Sai, watching him paint. Her hair was unbound. It swept over her neck and brushed Sai's bare shoulders.

Sasuke slammed the package on the table.

She jumped. "Sasuke-kun! What took you so long?"

"Washing up."

Sakura made a face. "Did you get blood in your hair again?"

Sasuke scowled and sat, careful not to lean against the seatback. Sai rolled up his work and approached. Without preamble, he said, "Something's off with the attack. The windows of the ballroom face the courtyard, and Higa had alarm seals all over the nearby roofs. They got in without tripping anything."

"We think someone warned the attackers," Sakura chimed. She took a seat next to Sasuke, too close. "Probably a guest in attendance last night, since only the invitees knew the time and place."

"Whomever it was also has to know enough about the complex to navigate the security system."

Sasuke exhaled. That made things easier and harder. "There could be two sources," he said, tearing the package open to free a scroll and a black book. Immediately, Sai reached for the mission revision.

"I don't think so. Two rats mean double the risk. With a multimillion-ryo deal on the table, I'd run as tight an operation as possible," Sakura said. "By the way, what did Higa want?"

Sasuke snorted. "To hire me."

Her eyebrows shot up. "Seriously?"

He passed her the contract. "He needs security for a business trip tonight. Said he was impressed with my performance."

"Why on Earth would he think you'd agree?" Sakura was incredulous.

Sasuke looked at the table. "For you."

"Wha-"

"He told me that you belong to him, for the next week." Sasuke remembered staring down at his seal-shackled wrist, consumed by a strange desire to break Higa's face. "Then, he talked about how dangerous the trip location was. How incompetent his guards were. Threw in an anecdote about one of his escorts getting kidnapped."

"That's not a job offer- that's a threat," Sakura pointed out. Her shirt had slipped askew. Delicate, unmarred skin stretched over an exposed shoulder, indifferently inviting. "He's trying to control you with me."

"Aa."

"You should take the offer," Sai cut in. Sakura removed herself and her shoulder from his proximity to grab the mission scroll. "Higa suspects that you protect Sakura because you have feelings for her. Better that than the truth."

Sai threw a knowing look at Sasuke. Sasuke threw the book at Sai. The satisfaction of watching the artist tip in his chair, fighting the momentum of the projectile, stifled the stinging protest of his back.

Sakura missed the exchange, completely engrossed in the scroll. "I can't believe the this! It's so underhanded," she declared, green eyes flashing.

Underhanded, yes. Surprising, no. Striking an under-the-table deal for crystal gem with a warlord of dubious ethics was exactly up the council's alley. The new elders were every bit the spiritual successor to the old ones— pragmatic and traditional. Sasuke remembered Morino Ibiki reading aloud his crimes during his trial. The three crones had watched him with beady, contemptuous eyes. It was childish, but he'd let his eyes flash red, just to watch the color drain from their wrinkled faces.

"It's good news for the village," Sai said. "Higa's guaranteeing us purchasing rights to a quarter of the mine's output. And, he wouldn't have petitioned Konoha for protection if he suspected the two of you."

Sakura nodded and stretched. The move pulled her shirt taut against her breasts and captured Sai's gaze. There was nothing left on the table for Sasuke to throw. "I think you should take the job too, Sasuke-kun. It's right in line with our new mission."

Sasuke had forewarned Konoha of the mining plot mine before Higa submitted his request. So the council played along when the formal deal came. According to the mission revision, Leaf intended to deploy shinobi to protect Higa and Kaede's men. Sasuke's team, already ankle deep in the muck, had to extract itself. The new mission: protect the warlord from competitors until legitimate replacements arrived. Hand off their target and leave without arousing suspicion. If all went well, Ito Kyouya would escort Tachibana Nanami home in one week, and Higa would remain none-the-wiser to Sasuke and Sakura's identities.

There was also the disclaimer to address. "About the mission. I'm supposed to tell you two that it has a possibility of becoming an S-class," Sasuke grunted.

Sakura sat up straighter. "Why?"

Sai passed the Bingo Book over to her, open to the S-ranked section.

"The Scorpion was from Cloud," Sasuke said. "This one was lifted off of one of Kumo's ANBU a few months ago."

Sakura skimmed the page. "'Known user of _jiton,_ an advanced chakra nature bloodline ability. Converts chakra into magnetic forces. Can magnetize objects,'" she read, frowning. "I've seen Gaara use this in the war. Nasty stuff. I wonder why Kumo kept this from us."

"Keep flipping," Sai advised.

Sakura sifted through another handful of S-ranked nukenin and then came to a halt. Her eyebrows shot up. "What the hell?" She flipped the book to Sasuke, and his own 16-year-old face stared back. "They still have you listed!"

Sai jotted down notes in his own Bingo Book, unperturbed. "Passive aggression, fairly common between ex-allies after wars. Peace pacts won't regenerate the Raikage's missing arm."

Sakura examined the page. His ID picture had been captured sometime during the Kage Summit. His likeness scowled at something off frame, face haggard, eyes dripping blood. What did Sakura see? Sasuke willed her to close the book.

His memories of those years persisted in ruthless definition. The Sharingan eliminated any possible gift of oblivion from the passage of time. Each glint of iron, each tendril of smoke—Sasuke relived his past in blistering detail.

After the transplant, Itachi's eyes had overwhelmed him. His capacity for higher reasoning fell to instincts and sensations. Confusion was the sound of a cold voice, revealing the truth of his brother's past. Envy was the sight of an ignorant smile on the face of every Konoha citizen. Apathy was the smell of charred flesh, pungent through the Summit chamber. Irritation was taste of blood in his mouth, proof that Naruto remained his rival.

Rage, though. Rage was physical. Visceral. The clench of his chest, the heat of his blood. The feeling of Haruno Sakura's fragile throat in his fist. How easy it had been to rip her off the ground with one hand. The insignificant little girl, all grown up. Perfect, righteous, _kind._ Ready to withstand the burden of killing him. How dare she give up on him?

_Do you know what I want?_

_It doesn't matter. I'll do whatever you say!_

Lies from her mouth. How dare she? Fire soared through his core; lightning crackled at his fist. He would ruin her. Make her as bloodied, hurt and damaged as him. Char those green eyes that roved his face— _don't look at me— _even as the breath stilled on her lips. Didn't she see there was nothing left to save? At the table, those same green eyes roved the proof of his crimes. What did she see when she looked at him? Did she still see her first love? Or the truth?

"This is ridiculous. Completely illegal and unjustified," Sakura growled, tearing the page out of the Bingo Book. "I'm going to have a word with the Raikage next time I'm in Hidden Cloud. You were exonerated years ago."

She looked at him, pretty eyes fierce with protectiveness, and Sasuke turned away because he was a piece of shit that deserved none of it.

"Focus on this mission," Sasuke said. "I'll accept Higa's offer and have him leave Sakura at the complex. We need to find the bodies and search them. Crosscheck the guest list with Konoha to figure out who the rat is. Figure out who's after him. Whoever comes with me is on recon."

Sai and Sakura looked at each other. "I'll stay," Sai offered. "You'll never find the bodies in that maze of a basement, and I don't need to find a hawk to contact Konoha."

"Are you sure? You've never done an autopsy before," Sakura pointed out.

"I'll preserve the bodies for you."

"Try not to jostle them, then." Turning to Sasuke, she smiled. "Guess it's you and me, then." Not a hint of mistrust in those eyes. Just guileless viridity. She was a fool. With a nod, Sasuke dismissed his team. Sai took off from the patio, and he followed suit.

"Nice try," Sakura said, grabbing his arm. "Let's have a look at those wounds."

Sasuke grimaced. "I'm fine."

"You've been stiff and wincing all morning."

"I—"

"You can take the shirt off, or I can rip it off," she explained.

It would have been easy to dodge her and leave. It should have been easy. And yet, he found himself pulling the shirt overhead and throwing it on the patio. He'd regret this.

She unraveled his bindings and sucked in a breath. "_What—_ " She circled around. "Why didn't you have me treat this as soon as you arrived? "

He could've said that the wounds weren't that serious, but that was a waste of breath.

"One day, this tough guy act is going to get you an infection. Let's see how tough you are when I have to hack off your gangrened leg, and you're stumbling around on crutches for the rest of your life," she muttered from behind him. "Flex," she commanded.

He complied, feeling muscles bulge and dislodge the glass studding his back. Shards dropped to the ground, and the raw cuts wept without their stoppers. Rivulets of blood ran down his back to soak into his pants.

Chakra-covered palms touched his back and immediately, the stinging in his back subsided. He sucked in a breath. Healing, no matter how institutionalized, was an uncomfortably intimate ordeal. An invasion of privacy where the whole of the patient's body- every pulse, every breath- was at the discretion of the medic-nin. It was why most shinobi disliked the hospital.

The first time Sakura treated him was a year after reinstatement. Vaguely, he'd been aware that she had trained as a medic-nin after he'd defected. Yet the sight of his ex-teammate, standing over his hospital bed in a white coat, was jarring. The feeling was shared, it seemed. Her fingers darted over his neck, as if a prolonged touch would scorch her skin. Was it fear that trepidated her touch? Or disgust for who he was?

He felt little remorse for his wartime transgressions. In the same situation, he would commit his crimes all over again. And yet, he found himself searching the exposed column of her neck for bruise marks, her pale green eyes for tears.

Her chakra eased into his skin. Steady, familiar and laden with memories: a sun-soaked summer, spent weeding gardens and chasing cats; the wind through the leaves on training ground 4; the aroma of ramen on a cold, winter night after a mission. A nostalgic man might describe it as coming home.

A caress on his lower back pulled him from his thoughts, and Sasuke stiffened. Suddenly, every little detail of the moment became irritatingly apparent—her slow breaths fanning at the hollow of his back, the heat of her pressed close, her scent thick in the air. How had he ever found this calming? She toyed with him, under his skin and inside his flesh. Burned him all over.

Sakura finished a final cut and ran her little hand down his spine. His eyes prickled, bloodline limit fighting to surface. Unwanted arousal shot straight to his cock_. Shit_. Did she do that with all her patients? A parade of faceless, male shinobi came to mind, eagerly waiting for Sakura to touch their backs and turn them on, and Sasuke seethed. She fucking better not. Two fingers trailed the ridge of his hipbone, and his control slipped further. Sasuke tore away.

With inhuman strength, Sakura yanked him right back. "Don't you dare," she growled. Her hand seared him, dangerously low on his navel, and she didn't notice. _How_ could she not notice? "Honestly, you've been such a difficult patient lately," she said, eyes narrowed, face inches away. "What are you hiding from me?"

A racing pulse and a raging erection, he wanted to spit.

Her green eyes crawled down his torso, her gaze as tactile as a kiss, and he closed his own. She sucked in a breath. "This is…"

Her touch at the flat of his chest sent the muscle jumping. Sasuke looked down. Sakura was frowning at the gash there. "This one's deep, Sasuke-kun. Be more careful with yourself."

Her touch was full of unbridled tenderness. That first time in the hospital, she had been stiff with apprehension. Now—

"I'm serious. You could have dodged this one," she chided.

— she touched him with the casual familiarity of a lover. "I have you."

"That's no excuse. What if I'm out of chakra, incapacitated or—I don't know— captured?

"Then I would save you," Sasuke said slowly.

Sakura sighed, as if she weren't asking obvious questions. Then, without warning, she summoned chakra to her hand and pushed it into the wound. Sasuke clenched his jaw. "Relax," she urged. The only way that was happening was if she moved a hundred feet away. "You know I can't treat you properly you're tense, Sasuke-kun. Loosen up, or brace yourself for the most painful massage of your life," she threatened.

As things were, he'd probably enjoy it. He swallowed the retort and diverted his mind, thinking of the mission.

There was little doubt that Higa's planned trip was to scout the mine. No businessman worth his wallet was going to invest in gems he hadn't seen with his own eyes. The mountain was dangerous, though, filled with rogues and hunters. Higa would need security and cover, a lean party. Security was obvious—Sasuke. Cover required thought. For a man Higa's age, the most believable disguise would be a traveling couple. Higa required a woman who could pass off as his wife.

For some reason, the image of Higa and Sakura kissing came to mind. Sasuke had never seen her kiss another man before. The sight did something unpleasant to his insides.

"Sakura," he began.

"Yes?" She looked up from his chest.

"Forget before," Sasuke said. "If Higa touches you again, punch him in the face."

She laughed. "He's not that bad, you know."

Sasuke looked at her.

"I've heard a lot of horror stories about these kind of missions," she explained. "Ino said she once had a target, a middle-aged inheritor so fat, he was bedbound. He couldn't bathe properly, and the smell was putrid. And Tenten was assigned to spy on the water daimyo, who was a lecher and obsessed with cats. She sneezed for a week after. I'm just saying, all things considered, Higa's not that bad." Sakura finished healing and patted his chest. "All done."

She smiled and held out his shirt.

Forcibly unclenching his fists, he redressed. His jaw seemed to have wired itself shut.

Her expression faded. "Are you okay?"

He didn't trust himself to speak.

"Sorry," she faltered. "Was it something I said? I didn't mean it about the massage thing."

The apology in her voice was genuine, and that, for some reason, angered him more. Why was she apologizing? He'd never asked for it. He'd never asked anything from her. So why did she insist on putting her hands all over him? Why did she smile at that man's name?

Instead of responding to her, Sasuke left the patio. Something he should have done the second they were left alone.

* * *

Sasuke knew someone was in his room before he opened his eyes. By the sound of the footsteps: tall, lightweight, and cautious. Indiscernible training. He flipped off the couch, grabbed the throat, and slammed the intruder into the wall.

The whimper was female. She choked, "Ito-san, it's me."

Sasuke's eyes adjusted to the dark. Riku's eyes were watering, but his grip did not slacken. He always locked his door. "How did you get in?"

She tore at his fingers, nails digging into his skin. "Key," she gasped. "In purse."

He found it, a silver replica of his own. "Why do you have this?"

"Used to live here. Kept it." By the fading of her eyes, she was going to pass out.

Sasuke let go, and Riku dropped to the floor. She croaked, "I knocked. You didn't answer." She hadn't, but Sasuke didn't call her out on the lie. "Masao asked me to play his cover for this trip, since Nanami isn't coming. I thought you should know that it'll be the three of us tonight."

Riku coughed twice and then straightened, regaining her composure with remarkable speed. "Apologies for the intrusion. I… should have known better than to sneak up on you. You're a man of extraordinary ability, Ito-san." Then, she was arching her back, bringing her breasts into prominence. "The way you fought last night-"

Sasuke wasn't a fool. He'd played this game before.

Voice dropping a sensual octave, she murmured, "Masao's wrong. I know men like you. Contracts and charges mean nothing. You're in this for something else. You're dangerous." Her heated gaze crawled down his chest and she licked her lips. "I've always been attracted to dangerous men." When her eyes met his again, they were glinting. Two fingers dipped into the waistband of his pants. The offer was clear.

Sasuke looked at her. Riku was objectively attractive, physically willing, and emotionally unattached. He hadn't had sex in two months. For most men, it would have been enough. It should have been enough.

"Discretion is my forte. Just say the word."

Sasuke gripped her hand and threw it off. "Leave," he ordered.

She didn't move for a second. Something in his face must've warned her against retorting, because in measured steps, she made for the door. With a hand on the knob, she whispered into the dark, "Consider the offer, Ito-san. I'd be good to you." Then, she left. The lock clicked shut behind her.

Sasuke turned the lights on. The clock read eight in the evening. He'd gotten in three hours of sleep for the last forty hours and the next twenty-four. Stubble scraped his palm, as he ran a hand over his jaw. ANBU was a high-stress position, physically and mentally taxing with a promise of death at every turn of the road. Sex took the edge off an anatomical need. Neither he nor his partners interpreted their relationships for more than what they were.

But he'd turned Riku down, without a second thought. Even then, her proposition left him cold.

Sakura's came to mind. From her, an accidentally suggestive smile or an unintentionally throaty whisper was all it took to scramble his self-control. Ridiculous. She was his medic-nin, his subordinate, and his ex-teammate. His victim. He protected her not out of affection, but out of duty and penance, as he reminded himself, over and over again.

So why was it that he couldn't help sneaking glimpses when she wasn't looking? Why did he dream of Madara's sword, emerging from her back while he was helpless to move? Why did he defy Itachi's dying wish in eager anticipation of soft words and gentle touch?

Why couldn't he keep his fucking hands off of her last night?

This mission demanded immediate proximity of the two of them. He was constantly on edge. Sakura found all the cracks in his self-control and poured herself inside, like water trickling into a stone wall. Wearing him down. Crumbling him. He needed distance. After this was over, he'd take a long mission to somewhere far away, find a new medic-nin, anything but this.

Sasuke wanted a girl he had no right to want. And she made it too damned easy.


End file.
